Deep Cuts
by Stormix
Summary: I don't tell anyone. Not even my closest friends. They don't know how it feels to be me. The me with deep cuts.
1. Chapter 1 - Shattered

_**Disclaimer: I DON'T OWN!**_

* * *

I stare into the blank, flat, face of the ceiling. Screaming and things smashing pierce my heart as I bring the covers close to my face. I could even barely hear the shouts of my parents fighting.

"You can't reject him like that! He is our _son_, Gerald! " I could make out the feminine voice of my mother.

"I should have never gone to Jersey with you! None of this would have happened!" my father spat back.

My stomach tightened when I heard that sentence. Pieces of my heart evaporated.

_None of this would have happened. _

Suddenly, I sprang out of bed and ran to the bathroom. I shut the door behind me, looking in the mirror. I kept focus on my reflection when I slowly took off my green hat, making my crazy hair poof out. I just glanced at my hands that held my hat.

My eyes went from my hands back to my reflection. I could feel my heart race, my eyes widen of what I saw. Questions ran through my mind.

"What the hell am I?" I whispered, tears running down my cheeks. I didn't even bother to put anything away. I placed my hat atop of my head and whip my head away from the reflection that's so called _me_. Every blink it's worse. Every argument a piece of my heart is ripped apart. I run from the bathroom back to my bed. I sit at the edge of my bed, my head hanging. After a few minutes of non-stop sobbing I get into my bed.

"Get out of here!" my mother screeched. The door slammed, making me flinch.

The fight was over, but that didn't ease the knots in my stomach. I couldn't sleep with my mind and heart going wild about the obvious thing that just happened.

My mother and father were split apart, while I'm stuck in the middle of all the stress.

* * *

_The sunlight burned my eyes as I opened them. I went to the take a look in the bathroom mirror. Dark, faded circles covered my eyes underneath. I've been scared shitless because my mother and father were fighting for the past 4 hours, and couldn't get to sleep until 5 in the morning. I got ready and ran downstairs to get my backpack. Despite how tired I am, I almost forgot my homework. I snatched it up and tucked it sloppily in my bag. I put on my usual orange jacket and went outside. I spotted the sign where Stan and Cartman were standing._

"God dammit, why does it have to be so cold today?" I shivered as he walked towards the the bus stop with the other two. Cartman, who was right beside me scoffed.

"Typical Jew," I glared at him, my green gloves clench into fists.

" ! #$%^&* off," I hissed, staring at Cartman coldly. He gave me an amused smirk.

"Dude, it's always been this cold," Stan said.

"I guess I haven't noticed," I replied a little harshly, folding my arms to warm myself. Footsteps in the snow crunched behind me. I twisted my head, seeing the orange jacket of Kenny. He looked at me, Stan, and Cartman then waved. He walked up beside Cartman, and gave a huge long breath, turning it into a cold cloud. He opened up one of his magazines and flipped through it, giggling like a school girl everytime he saw something interesting.

_Judging by him not shivering or giving a ! #$%^&* about the weather, he's probably not cold._

Thoughts of the fight last night made me sick. I felt as if I was going to faint.

"I-I think I'm going to be sick," I said weakly, hacking a cough. I squeezed myself tighter.

"Kyahl, if you complain about something one more time, I swear to god I'll punch your little pale ginger face in," Cartman sneered.

"That's not funny, fatass!" Stan snapped, defending me. "He could be sick or something and sickness isn't a joke!"

"Ay! I'm not fat, I'm big-boned!" he spat, pointing at Stan.

"Just shut-up and wait for the fucking bus," I choked. Cartman shot me one of his cold looks before looking away with anger. After a few minutes, I felt like throwing up. My breath was all shallow and quick. Stan took notice.

"If your feeling unwell you should go home and rest," Kenny said, not looking away from his magazine.

_Am I really that loud?_

"No..It's fine guys, I'm fine. Don't worry," A screech of tires pierced my ears. As soon as the doors opened, I rushed inside. I was so desperate to get out of the cold. To get away from the house. I sat down at the back, away from the door seeping in cold air. Stan sat beside me, looking concerned.

"Dude, what's the problem?" he asked. I just looked at the window, avoiding any contact with him. After a few seconds of silence, Stan shook my shoulder. I whipped my head around.

"What is it?" I fumed. Stan quickly withdrew his hand.

"I'm just wondering if your okay, that's all dude," he said calmly.

"What makes you think something's wrong with me?" my gaze was still full of flames as I released my arms that were tightened around me. Stan shrugged.

"You sounded sick with that dreadful cough" I gave a long sigh.

"It's nothing dude," His face was an unreadable expression.

"It's not 'nothing' Kyle. I know somethings wrong-"

"Nothing is wrong!" I scowl at him with teeth bared.

"Okay, okay dude! Calm down!" he said harshly. Me and his eyes lock. Ours burn each other gaze. I growl under my breath when I heard the laugh of none other than the fatass himself.

"What Kyahl, you have a little sand in your vagina?" Cartman sneered at the back of his seat. I couldn't control myself. I sprang up and grabbed the collar of his jacket, my eyes full of fury.

"I don't have sand in my fucking vagina!" I scream. The bus driver yelled at me as soon as I got up.

"SIT DOWN!" I ignored her, my grip on Cartman's jacket tightened.

"Let go of me, jew!" he hissed, struggling to free himself out of my grip. I pointed my finger right into his face.

"You better not fucking say anything to me, you fat piece of ! #$%^&*!" he scoffed harshly.

"I can say anything I want to you, Kyahl," I gritted my teeth. I lifted my fist, ready to punch the hell out of him, when a strong grip clenched my shoulder. I turn, my gaze softened. It was Stan.

"Dude, what the hell," he said, eyes widened. I released my grip on Cartman and dropped my arm. All eyes were on me. I sat back down, gripping my hand that almost bashed Cartman.

Stan glared at me, looking for a good reason why I went all crazy. I gave a deep sigh.

"Sorry dude. T..Things were crazy last night, and I'm just really tired and ticked off at what happened," I explained. Before he could react, the bus came to a immediate stop. I grabbed my backpack, and got off.

I suddenly felt very weak. Realization made my heart sink.

"My insulin..."


	2. Chapter 2 - Wounds

"How could I have forgotten?!" I whispered, my left leg giving out. I knew I blocked the pavement path to the school, because people kept bumping into me. Cartman was the first to do so.

"Move the hell outta my way, jew," he sneered, giving me a powerful shove. I stumbled to my knees, with one of my hands holding me up.

"What the hell, Cartman?" Stan yelled behind me. Kenny ran to my side, and helped me up.

"You okay man?" he said, as Stan supported me on the other side. I opened my mouth to speak, but Stan answered for me.

"Kenny, does he _look _okay to you?" He shrugged. They began walking me to the nurses office.

"Dude, he can't even stand up!" Stan exclaimed. I weakly waved my hand, trying to brush it off.

"I'm okay, Stan-"

"No your not, Kyle!" he cut me off.

"I can't keep using that insulin to keep me going! It's, not right.." Kenny looked at me, and tilted his head.

"Is that what it is?" I nodded. Stan gave Kenny a light slap on the back.

"Stop talking, we need to get him to the nurse," I couldn't object. Everything felt limp, and every time I blinked, my vision darkened. I wanted to sleep, but Stan's voice kept me awake.

"Come on, Kyle. Hang in there bud," he said. I smiled weakly, thankful for his and Kenny's assistance. We approached the doors. Kenny and Stan used their free hand to push the door at full force. Good thing the hallways were empty, otherwise it'd be a tougher trip. It wasn't long until we arrived at the door of the nurse's office.

Kenny knocked on the door, and Nurse Gollum immediately answered it.

"Oh my! What happened?" she gave a sharp gasp. Stan and Kenny rushed in, and helped me on the bench.

"Kyle forgot to take his insulin," Stan explained. "And he started to grow weak immediately, according to Kenny," The nurse nodded.

"Yes that's what diabetics use, correct?" I gave a slight nod. Before I could see or do anything, my eyes just gave up on me. I could only hear Nurse Gollum's voice. Stan and Kenny must of left for class. I wanted to see what was going on, but I just wanted rest. That is all I need.

* * *

I woke up, my eyes feeling refreshed and strong. I saw the face of the nurse. She smiled softly.

"Hello, Kyle. How are you feeling?"

"Feeling better than I was before," I replied, getting off the bench. She then grabbed my shoulder.

"I need you to stay here. I need to call your mother to tell you that you forgot to take your insulin, so this mistake doesn't happen again," My heart sank.

_ ! #$%^&*.._

"I'm sorry, but I have to get to class," I quickly said. Before she could answer, I bolted out of there. I just couldn't face my mom after the horrible fight last night. Knowing how sad and angry she must felt after the huge fight. But surly they'll come back together, right? As I turned the corner, I see Cartman, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed.

"The hell are you doing here? " I stiffened. If he heard the whole conversation he could spread rumors.

"I was going to ask you the same thing," He unfolded his arms and approached me. His gaze was an amused one; the usual.

"I was getting a drink," I lied. He raised a brow.

"Don't talk bull- ! #$%^&*, Kyahl. I know what was _really _going on," he hissed, examining me.

"Just move out of the way, fat- ! #$%^&*," I said, my fists shaking. I took a sharp turn to the left; where he wasn't blocking me. He pushed me back, and grabbed my arm. Pain shot through me, like a bee sting.

"Let go!" I spat.

"Admit it, Jew! Your hiding something!" he yelled, and yanked off my glove. His eyes just widen of what he sees. My heart stops and the knots in my stomach.

"What the ! #$%^&*, Kyahl," he whispers. I look to what he's staring at.

Bloody, deep cuts on my hand.


	3. Chapter 3 - Secrets

**So sorry for the long wait...**

**:n:**

Cartman started at my hand, speechless. It was a reaction I never saw before. We started at my hand for a few minutes. I felt self-conscious, and quickly put my glove back on. I gave him a sharp look, my voice like sandpaper.

"I told you to let me pass, Cartman. None of this would of happened," I said, feeling sick. He swiftly looked at me, and narrowed his eyes.

"Now your Jersey, Ginger, Jewish and _E__mo_!" he snickered, pointing at me. I dashed through a space that he wasn't blocking. Having long legs have their perks. He twisted to me, his eyes full of amusement.

"Running away, huh Kyhal?" he said, and gave me one of his smirks. I ignored him, searching for a place to calm down. I spotted the only thing students could go into; a bathroom. I ran towards it, my stomach twisting more. I barely hear Cartman's voice as soon as I locked the door.

"You can't run from me, jew!"

* * *

My back was against the door, catching my breath.

"Don't puke...don't puke," I repeated, sliding down to the floor to take a few more breaths. But that didn't help. I could feel the disgusting flavor in my mouth. I ran to the toilet, puking up my insides. Every second I tried to take a breath, it was cut off by the vomit.

"God dammit!" I cursed weakly, more vomit rising up my throat, burning with stomach acid. A knock at the door scared the living daylight out of me. I jumped up, my heart racing.

"Can you open up, please?" Immediately I knew it was Stan. I didn't want him to see me like a wreak. Thinking I was done, I flushed the toilet, washed up and ran to the door to open it up. Stan gave me a surprised glance.

"Aren't you suppose to be at the nurse's office?" he asked, pointing to the door I came out of when I spotting the fatass snooping. I shrugged.

"Well, I'm all better now, am I?" he examined me from head to toe.

"By the looks of it, I think so," he gave a firm tone. He slithered by me, going to do his business. I looked towards the doorway.

"Hey Kyle," he said suddenly.

"Hm?" I hummed.

"I..uh saw Cartman in the halls, and he... told me something you never told me before," Stan hesitated, as he started to wash his hands. I gulped, lightly running a finger on the deep gash on my hand.

"He told me that you-" I faced him, his eyes darting from the sink to me.

"Stan, don't you ****ing say a word," I said through bared teeth, my hands balled into fists. He backed up, with hands up, showing that he's backing off. I closed my eyes while taking a few breaths.

"Sorry dude," I say. He takes a step towards me, shaking off the water droplets.

"Why didn't you tell me before?" I said nothing. Neither did him. All he did was step closer giving me a trustful glare.

"Show me," he says. My heart drops.

"What-"

"Show me the cuts," I hesitate for a while, until I made up my mind.

I slowly pulled off my glove. Stan examines them, then me. His face was grim.

"Dude, why?" he asked, as I put my glove back on.

"I-I.." I had no words. The bell rang, alerting my thoughts.

"Oh crap!" he shouts. He runs to the door, opens it then faces me.

"C'mon dude! We need to hurry to class!" he grabs my arm that thankfully wasn't injured. As I was being dragged, I saw a Cartman, refreshed from the water fountain, giving me a snake-like smile.

I quickly twisted my head, unable to face him. I couldn't, after all he's done to me, he decides to tell Stan? Probably the class too. But I can't think that. I just have to sit in class, and soon I'll be home on my bed, with hopefully no stress, and no rumors.

* * *

As we entered the door, Mr. Garrison gave Stan a look.

"You've been awfully long," I tag along with Stan as we sat down.

"I had to get a drink after," he lied, not looking at me. I stare down at a worksheet Stan pointed to me on my desk. I gave a grunt.

"Really? Fractions?" Stan chuckled.

"Dude, aren't you amazing at fractions?"

"Yeah, but I don't want to learn them, again! I whispered loudly.

"Kyle Broflovski, do I hear you talking?"

"Of couse you do, because you have ears," The door opened, reveling Cartman.

_"Eavesdropping again, huh?"_ I thought crossly. Mr. Garrison flared his nostrils.

"Excuse me?" he said in a fierce voice.

"You heard me," a smug grin appeared on his face. Mr. Garrison slammed his hands on his desk, making me flinch.

"Eric, you march you and your attitude to the Principle's office, now!" he yelled. Cartman scoffed, and waved his hand as soon as he left.

"What an obnoxious fatass," Kenny said, tucking his blond hair into his orange parka.

"Yeah, why would he deliberately get into trouble?" Stan agreed, fiddling with his pencil.

"Maybe he just wanted to skip the class," I said roughly.

"Typical Cartman," the blond said, uninterested in the conversation.

* * *

The bell finally rang. Thank Moses. I swiftly grabbed my stuff, and dashed out. I felt my hat lift up, and a voice coo.

"Whoa, hold it cowboy," Kenny said playfully, dangling my hat. I snatched it, my eyes narrowed.

"What do you want?" I said gruffly. Stan came up from behind Kenny.

"Dude, we need to work on the assignment," he panted, resting is hands on his knees. Oh yeah. What a coincidence the teacher _had _to assign a project.

"Alright, where are we working on it?" I say. Kenny immediately pointed at Stan. He sighed.

"Fine, at my place," Kenny, was grinning with glee. I bet he likes Stan's food or something... i don't know.

"Is Cartman apart of our group?" Both stared blankly at me, knowing what their expression.

"Let me guess, the teacher had no choice?" Nodding.

"Juuust great," I spat. Kenny placed a hand on my shoulder.

"Don't worry, if he tries anything I'll make sure he doesn't do it again," I smiled. After that last incident with Cartman, Kenny told me he's going to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid again. I just hope my mom doesn't yell at me or anything.

And when she gets mad, **** hits the fan.


	4. Chapter 4 - Pain

**.:Stan's POV:.**

We arrived at my house shortly after our conversation. I opened the door, and my mother's head pops out from the kitchen doorway.

"Hello, dear," she greeted us warmly. "What are you and your friends up to?"

"We're doing a history project Mrs Marsh," Kyle answered for me, as he takes the lead up the stairs. He's in a rush..

"Well, if you need anything just-"

"Okay, thanks mom," I cut her off, knowing what she's going to say next. I run up the stairs and towards my room, with Kenny and Cartman at my heels. I enter the room, seeing Kyle sitting on my bed. He looked up quickly, hiding his hands behind his back. I narrow my eyes at him. What the hell is hiding?

"Ey, move out of the way Stan!" Cartman yelled, and I immediately did so. We all gather around in a circle, thinking of ideas.

"Alright, what should we do, guys?" I asked. Cartman shifted backward, crossing his arms.

"I'm not doing a project with you, hippie," he argued. Kyle's eyes were now on Cartman, his teeth clenched.

"Well too bad, fatass. And besides, our teachers made us into groups,"

"So?"

"So, if we separate, the teacher will fail us," Kenny's eyes widened.

"Dude, that's ****ing strict," he said, flabbergasted. The teachers now were real hard on our class. Well, just us. The other students get special treatment or something! My right eye twitched in anger.

"Alright, let's get started," Kyle pushed himself off the bed. Kenny tilted his head.

"You have an idea already?" the green hatted boy nodded, grabbing a pencil from my desk.

"Well, dude what is it?" I asked, as he started writing the paper.

"It's about the Wars of 1812," he answered. "If we do _all _the wars, we're sure to at least get an A,"

"All of them? Dude, we don't want you doing all the work-"

"Nah, guys. Let the Jew do this all for us," Cartman hushed Kenny from saying anymore. I shot a disgusted look at him.

"Dude, we can't let Kyle do all the work for us!" I threw my hands up.

"Yeah, and besides, he gets stressed easily," Kenny pointed out from his orange parka. Kyle growled at him in disagreement, his eyes full of anger.

"I don't get stressed, Kenny." I just walked over beside him, and gently took the pencil from his hand. He turned around, confused.

"Dude, when we do projects you always have all the stress about the work on your shoulders." Kyle's eyes grew soft, but he still had a confused look on his face. I smiled. I nodded to Kenny and pointed at my computer.

He got up and winked at me, which was totally creepy. He got on and searched up information on all the wars. We worked for a few hours, with Kyle's shocked glare stinging my stomach.

* * *

**.:Kyle's POV:.**

We've all fell asleep from fatigue. Stan, Kenny swapped turns writing down information. I don't know how I fell asleep, probably from my lack of sleep. Cartman was asleep from all the food he ate. I scoffed.

"_Typical fatass,_" I thought, as I saw him on the floor, snoring loudly with empty chip bags surrounding him. Luckily it didn't wake up the others.

My eyes suddenly widen when I hear a harsh conversation outside. I peered out from the bed, and saw my mother and Stan's mom talking. My mom looked pissed off. My heart immediately dropped. I jumped when I heard footsteps. I couldn't run, she'd somehow always find me.

Downstairs...

Up the stairs...

The hallway...

And there, stood my mother, her hands on her hips, her eyes full of fury.

"Kyle Broflovski, you are coming home this _instant_!" That was loud enough to wake Stan, Cartman and Kenny all together. Stan turned his head to me, his expression full of worry and fear.

"Dude, what the hell is going on?" I shook rapidly, not sure of what to tell him.

"Your friend is coming home, and is not going over to anyone's house anymore!" she growled at Stan. I stood up, my heart speeding.

"Don't yell at _my _friend, Mom!" I yell, my hands balling into fists. They shook with anger and fear. She ran up to me, and dug her nails into my arm. I yelp, my eyes forced closed at the pain.

"I've had enough with you, Kyle! I'm going to have a long word with you as soon as we get home!" She yanked me to the doorway, feeling as if my arm is going to fall off. I only had a quick second to turn, to see the scared and worried faces of Stan, Kenny and even Cartman.

* * *

My mom dragged me home, every time I whimpered, she digs her nails in harder. What the **** is going on with her? Once we get there, she opens the door with too much strength, and threw me down. She slammed the door behind her.

"Kyle, what the hell is wrong on with you?" Anger surged up inside me. Wrong on with _me?!_ The **** is she talking about?!

"Answer me!" I felt a sharp pain at my cheek. She slapped me. My _mom _slapped me. I felt like weeping in front of her, but she'll hurt me to 'man up'

"There is nothing wrong with me!" I cry out innocently. She narrows her eyes.

"Kyle, do you want your father?" I hesitated.

"I do-"

"Well, that drunk **** is gone! And you know why?" I knew exactly why.

"Because of me," I whispered. I curled up into a ball as she grins.

"Yes Kyle. Because of you," That's where she's crossed the line.

"You know what Kyle? Go get a bottle of vodka," My eyes widen.

"W-what?" I stammer, as I peeked out of my ball.

"You heard me. If you want your father, you might as well be like _him_!" I turn to grab a bottle from the kitchen. I return to her, clenching the bottle close.

"Alright, now take a sip,"

"I don't want to-" I croaked.

"I said Do. It!" she yelled. I opened the cap, and I felt the burning liquid of the drink go down my throat. Then, I lost my balance. I collapse to the ground, the glass bottle shattering with a heart breaking sound. I cringe not at that, but the glass that has made it's way into my thigh. Blood stains my pants, and I scream, my throat stinging me. My mom then grabs a piece of glass, and gently, but painfully cutting my forehead. I wheeze weakly, yanking out the glass from the thigh.

"Look what you've done, Kyle! I told you there was something wrong with you!" I suddenly turn to the stairs, seeing Ike. He's waken up. His face made a hole in my heart. He turns to mom.

"Mom, what are you doing to Kyle?" he asks, his tone full of tears. An 11 year old shouldn't witness this.

"Go to bed Ike. Kyle and I are having a little talk," she says. Ike jumps down the last step, and clings onto me.

"Mom, your hurting Kyle, please stop! You've had a long day, go rest," Without question she goes upstairs. Ike hugs me tighter.

"What did mom do to you, Kyle? This has been the 4th time this week.." I stand up weakly, the pain striking me.

"It's nothing, Ike." I say.

"No Kyle, this isn't okay!" He points to my leg, and my head. I clench my teeth.

"Ike, everything is okay," Without warning he lifts up my gloves, revealing more cuts. Some were deep, some were bruises.

"Look at your hand Kyle! It's flooding with cuts!" I grab my glove, quickly covering them up.

"I'm getting used to it anyway, Ike" I said grimly. I limply go upstairs, not looking at my Canadian brother.

"I'm just getting used to it," I whispered softly.


	5. Chapter 5 - Anger

**.:Stan's POV:.**

I wait at the bust stop with Cartman and Kenny. I was still shaking from last night. I just can't believe what I saw back there. I can picture Kyle, just... all covered in cuts.. Poor guy...He stood up for me, yet he still gets a beating for it. I gotta fucking do something about this ****.

"Yo, dude you still in there?" Kenny waves a hand in front of my face. I shook my head to clear my thoughts.

"Kind of.." I trail off. Kenny looks at me, knowing how I was feeling.

"When Kyle screamed like that, fucking hell, it was horrible," Kenny said grimly.

"Speaking of Kahl, here he comes now," Cartman pointed.

I turn around, seeing the distant green hat he always wore. But, underneath that hat was Kyle, but he looked like ****. He has a bandaged forehead, and he's obviously limping.

"Hey dudes," Kyle says.

"Looks like you went though a fucking cheese shredder, Jew," Cartman said.

"**** off," he cursed at him, too pissed off.

"Yeah, dude what happened?" I asked, examining his leg. It's jacked up.

"I slipped," he said.

"You...slipped," Kenny repeats slowly.

"Stop lying, Jew. I know what your up to." Cartman sneered. Kyle glared at him, warning him to not say another word.

"Don't say another word, fatass or I'll kill you," Kyle threatened.

"Oh wouldn't I?" he replied wickedly. He cleared this throat.

"As I was going to say, the Jew rat here didn't slip, he-" Without warning, even with a bad leg, Kyle tackles him, using one of his arms. He pinned him up against a tree.

"You better not say a fucking thing you fat piece of crap!" he shrieked. I wrapped my hands around his skinny figure, pulling him away from Cartman.

"Let go, Stan!" He wiggles in my grasp. I was too strong for him to get free, and he knows that. Cartman's eyes were widened, full of shock. Kyle is never this rough, unless he _really _doesn't want anyone saying ****.

"Kyle, calm down!" I say, restraining him. I can feel his heart pounding, and his breathes fast and low. As I hold him, he calms down, but his breaths were still very fast. He must of been thinking of something that happened.

"Let go, Stan." Kyle says, rather seriously. I hesitated, thinking he'd attack Cartman again.

"I said, **let go**," he repeats a little harshly this time. I let go, and he slowly limps away from us. He stops, looking at his hands balled and over his heart. Anxiety crosses his face.

"The hell is wrong with that fucking Jew?" Cartman rasped, standing up rubbing his head.

"Dude, he went through some tough **** last night. Got him traumatized." Kenny said, looking at Kyle.

"What the hell happened, Kyle?" I said, but is was barely a whisper.

* * *

Kyle doesn't talk to us for the whole day. After I got my things, I see him walking by himself, his hands tucked away into his pockets. I sprint beside him, and he doesn't look at me.

"Sorry about today at the bus stop," his green eyes were dark, with bags under his eyes. Guess he didn't sleep well.

"I just..lost control I guess," he admits, pulling down his hat more to cover the side of his face. I placed a hand on his shoulder, but he moved away.

"I don't want to be touched, Stan," he said softly. I quickly recoil my hand.

"I understand, Kyle. Just tell me what happened. We'll help you." I say. He lowers his head.

"I'm scared, Stan." he sniffs. This time he looks at me, tears forming in his emerald eyes.

"I'm so fucking scared. I have no where to run," I felt my heart sink. I wanted to hug him, or do anything to cheer him up. I can't see my friend like this, all covered in cuts.

"You want to talk about it?" I ask. He shook his head.

"If I talk about it, somehow, my mom will find out what's she's been doing to me." he croaked.

"And my injuries will get much worse,"

"Well, is there anything we can do?" I say hopefully.

He says nothing. He just looks at his hands.

"I'm sorry Stan. But things aren't going to get better. My mom is very upset my dad left her, and she'll never forget it. I'm just her punching bag," Kyle says sadly.

I let him walk home alone. I was shocked.

"I'm going to do anything in my power to help you, Kyle." I say, as his green hat disperses into the trees blocking my vision.

* * *

**.:Kyle's POV:.  
**

I arrive home, not feeling any fresher. I open the door, looking up the stairs seeing Ike. He looks at me, and runs down the stairs.

"How was school?" he asks.

"Peachy." I say sarcastically. I open my bag and get out my books I need to use for studying. We've got a fucking test tomorrow, and I hope staying up late was worth it.

"Kyle, I heard you pushed Cartman up against a tree, when he was going to reveal that you..." he trails off, too sad to continue.

"I _cut _myself?" I finished for him. He nodded slowly.

"Why do you do it...?" he suddenly says, he dark brown eyes filled with worry.

"That's none of your business," I hiss, going up the stairs.

"I'm your brother Kyle, it's totally my business," I stop.

"Can't you see Ike? Mom isn't going to get better." He stares at me, uncertainly.

"But please don't do this to yourself, Kyle. It makes me upset." I turn my back to him, tears running down my cheeks.

"Same here," I whisper, running up to my room.


	6. Chapter 6 - Comfort

_**This chapter has alittle Style fluff ;3  
**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**.:Kyle's POV:.**

My Mom beat me again. It fucking hurt so badly. I kept telling her to stop, but she didn't reply. I didn't listen to her, after she told me to study my ! #$%^&* off. I complained, and she got angry. I could still hear her words.

"_Mommy needs to get the belt this time Kyle. You didn't listen to me,_" I felt like throwing up. But I didn't.

And that was all 3 hours ago.

* * *

I slowly look at my room, before going in. Mom is very tired from whipping me, thank god. I get atop of my bed and laid there on my stomach, read and reviewed all the pages that was going to be on the math test. Fractions, Multiplying and Dividing Integers, all that type of math stuff. Stress stabbed my in the heart, as I read on.

"We haven't learned these yet?! And they're on the test?!" I hissed. I wanted to scream. My teacher is fucking torturing me or something. I gridded my teeth, heavy and loud stressful breaths sounded from it.

"Calm down, Kyle. You can do this, you can..." I said to myself encouragingly. But a voice in my head kept distracting me.

"_Go, cut yourself. Everything will feel better once you do,_" It echoed. I harden my gaze, trying not to listen.

"_Grab a the glass shard you always keep in your desk. Trust me, you'll feel good,_" My hands shook, wanting to obey it. I force myself to keep reading, but I then stare at my desk. I silently growl to myself, trying not to get up.

"_You can't resist, Kyle. You want the pain, you need it. The blood tingling from your wrist will make everything good, stop trying to force yourself to stay. Come on, Kyle._" I quickly got up, and limped towards my desk. I hesitated, wondering how Stan will feel about this.

"I'm doing the right thing, I am, I am..." I whisper to myself. I shakily take my right hand and opened my desk drawer. The jagged piece of glass shone in the moonlight that peered from my window.

"Stan wouldn't be concerned if I don't tell him about any of this stuff. I'll be fine," I grab the glass, and slowly pierce it into my wrist. I moaned with pain, trying to continue. The next one was more painful, but I didn't realize I pushed it in deeper. I ran downstairs, holding my scream in. I stood near the couch, and let my scream come out.

I run the shard in the deepest on the third one. But it didn't feel right, it didn't. I screech this time, my vocals dry. I threw away the bloody glass shard on the couch, and stared at my cut. I collapsed to my knees. It was bleeding like hell, and I wanted to clean it up.

"_That's great Kyle! Don't wipe the blood off! Let it slowly drip down,_" the voice exclaimed. It didn't make me feel any better. I wanted to stop, but maybe the next time I do it, it'll be a lot better. I suddenly hear the front door open, and voices are released into the house. I couldn't run or hide, I was too weak to hold myself up. Ike was talking to someone behind him.

He then looked at me, and gasped. The person behind him revealed his face. It was Stan.

"Oh my god," Stan chocked on his words, and ran to get a bandage from the First Aid Kit. Ike ran to me, and looked at my arm.

"Kyle! I told you not to do this!" he said, his eyes full of tears. I smile weakly.

"But it feels alot better now..." I trail off, before my vision went black.

* * *

**.:Stan's POV:.  
**

I was told that I was needed to go to Kyle's. And I was horrified of what I saw once I got there.

My best friend, kneeling beside the couch, his arm all bloody. Why did he make himself suffer? So that all pain would be obliterated?

I came back with the First Aid, and handed it to Ike.

"Your going to be okay, Kyle," Ike repeats to himself, boosting his hope. He takes out some healing alcohol to clean the cut. Kyle didn't react. I look closer, seeing his eyes closed. He must be out cold. Poor Kyle, Jesus. He then takes the bandage and gently wraps it around Kyle's arm.

"If this happens again, don't hesitate to take him to the hospital," I say. Ike stayed silent. After a few layers of bandage, he puts everything back and shuts the kit shut. I put it back, and help Ike carry Kyle to his bed.

"Holy ! #$%^&*, he's light," I exclaim. Ike nodded.

"Yeah, he doesn't eat alot. I can tell that's all from depression," I look at Ike, my jaw hung.

"Wait, wait. Your telling me, Kyle suffers from depression, too?" I ask

"Had that ever since my mom and dad separated,"

"Then why didn't you tell your mom that she needed to take Kyle somewhere to cure his depression?" I frown, as me and Ike placed Kyle on his bed.

"Mom locked herself in her room for a couple days. As soon as she came out, she was a whole new different person. So I couldn't do anything. And Kyle didn't have his drivers license." Ike pointed out. My eyes widen. Kyle never told me about anything like this. I'm worried he's hiding more, but I can't tell for sure. He barely tells anyone about him. Me and Ike head down stairs. I glance at the couch, that held the glass shard Kyle used to cut himself. I picked it up, and threw it in a garbage.

"You mind if I stay here, until Kyle wakes up?" I say quietly. Ike nods.

"Yeah, just make sure my mom doesn't see you.." he adds.

"I'll try," I say. Ike smiles a bit, but soon frowns. I feel horrible for Ike. He sees his brother getting beat up, and helps him. He knows he can't help Kyle 24/7. He has school too.

Hours passed, and I kept myself entertained on my phone. I look beside me, Ike is fast asleep. I look upstairs, seeing Kyle. My heart starts pumping hope.

"Welcome back," I smile, and he walks down the stairs. I couldn't bother but to get up and hug him. He hugs back.

"Hey Stan," he says in his usual tone. His voice barely changed. He's 16 years old, his voice is suppose to change, but it barely didn't. He then looks down, ashamed.

"I-I'm so sorry what happened earlier," he mumbles, clearly meaning it.

"Kyle, why do you do this to yourself? Your making your life miserable and much harder," I say, holding his hands tight. He looks me right in my dark blue eyes.

"I..I don't know," he says.

"I, just hear a voice in my head, telling me to do these things to me. I can't help but obey, Stan. It's extremely hard not to," he gives my hands a little squeeze.

"And, somehow, It _feels _good. I don't know why, but It just feels comforting to hurt myself more," he lets go of my hands, sheds a few tears, and turns his back to me.

"I'm not like you, Kenny, or Cartman, Stan," he didn't turn to me. I can hear his muffled cries as he sobbed in his hands. I gently place my hand on his shoulder. He flinches, but soon relaxes. Suddenly, he turns to me, and cries in my jacket. I rub his back, trying to calm him down.

"I'm not fucking normal," he says between sniffs. I force him to look up at me. His eyes were full of tears and his cheeks were red and puffy from all the crying. I slowly take off his hat. He doesn't grab it from me. I turn him to a mirror in the kitchen. He glances at himself.

"You know what I see?" I ask him.

"I see a crazy-ass person," he says.

"I see my super best friend. But, you know what?" I say. He shakes his head.

"I think he's just different than others."


	7. Chapter 7 - Grieve

_**Thank you guys so much for all the positive feedback! Every review I see, It makes me want to write more!  
**_

_**I really appreciate it, so as a little treat, I made this chapter extra long for you guys! ;)  
**_

_**Enjoy!**_

**.:Kyle's POV:.**

I woke up, feeling refreshed. After our talk, Stan went home. I felt a little better myself, but not cured. I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, got dressed and went downstairs. I saw my mother, and she turned to me.

"Morning, Bubbe." she smiled. I had a confused look on my face. She didn't grin or show affection for neither me or Ike, after the divorce. I grabbed my coat, and I was about to head outside.

"Kyle," Mom said. My heart sank. Was she going to hurt me? I braced myself for the upcoming attack, but I didn't feel a sharp pain. I looked up, my mother had _hugged _me.

"Oh Kyle, I'm sorry of what happened last night."

"I-it's alright, mom." I stuttered. I was in complete shock. She took off my hat and curled my hair.

"Do you trust me, Kyle?" she asks. I hesitate.

"You shouldn't hesitate, Kyle. It should be an immediate 'yes'"

"I don't know," she growled lightly at me. She raised a hand, my eyes widen, knowing what she was going to do.

"I-i mean I do! I _do _trust you mom!"

"Too late," she hisses. She threw her hand at me, my cheek burning with pain. I place a hand over it, weeping.

"Now get to school, Kyle," she says. And I obey.

* * *

It didn't take me long to get to the bus stop. I already knew I was late. I could hear Kenny, and Cartman talking about me. Stan stood there, telling them not to talk about me behind my back. I stand in between Kenny and Stan.

"Why so late, jew?" Cartman sneered.

"Me and Kinny here were just talking about you," my jaw tightened.

"I know that," I say harshly, trying not to lose my cool. Cartman knows I can kick his fucking ! #$%^&* all the way to next Wednesday.

"I could here it halfway when I was walking, fatass." I spat.

"For the last fucking time, Kahl, I'm. Big. Boned!" he hissed.

"Just tell me what you and Kenny talked about!" I yelled.

"Over mah dead body." he crosses his arms.

"You'll be dead in a second, if you don't tell me!" I growled.

"Okay, ladies. We're all beautiful here," Kenny muffled through his orange parka. Stan giggled a little. I whipped my head and glare at him.

"Fine, if Kahl stops calling me fat," Cartman grunted.

"If you lose weight, sure." I say. I could feel Cartman's gaze make my blood run cold.

"Cartman just tell Kyle what you said about him," Stan said simply. Cartman crossed his arms.

"Hell nah." he sung. I turn to face the opposite side of me, not interested anymore. Kenny looked at me.

"The ! #$%^&* happened to you?" I obliviously stared at him.

"What?" He stands on his toes to poke my cheek. I cringe, and he pretends to write something down.

"Hm, yes you got a severe case of red hand marks." he says.

"You should put some cream on that to cure it," I roll my eyes.

"Your so fucking petulant, Kenny." His gaze tightened into a rather serious one.

"I'm serious now, Kyle. The hell happened?" his brown and green eyes are fixed on me.

"It's nothing," I say. He narrowed his eyes.

"Just tell us what happened, jew-rat," Cartman said.

"If he doesn't want to tell, he doesn't fucking have to," Stan defended me. I looked at him, and he smiled at me. I gave a little smile back.

Sounds of tires screeching pierced my ears. We all approach the bus confidently, well, not everyone. I'm so worried about this test. I sit at my usual seat; away from the doors. Stan sat beside me; like always. I look outside the window as the bus starts to get into motion.

"Thanks for defending me back there," I say. He nodded.

"No problem, Ky." he said. We both stayed silent for a couple minutes, but I broke it.

"You worried about the test?" I turn to face him, with shaking hands.

"Not really," he snorted. He gazed at me.

"You?" I shrugged.

"Yeah. I've been studying all night when...you know," Stan frowned, knowing what I was talking about.

"..Lets just hope this day isn't so bad," I quickly said, cutting off anymore conversations about last night. Stan nodded in agreement.

* * *

**.:Stan's POV:.**

We have gym for second period, then Math. I slowly change into my gym clothes. I looked at Kyle; who still had his original clothes on. After I was fully changed, I walk up to him, and whisper in is ear.

"You okay?" I ask.

"Just self-conscious, ya know? Don't want anyone seeing all my bruises." he replies softly.

"Why not change in the washrooms?" I suggest. He looks at the stalls, then back to me.

"Worth a shot," he says, and walks to the stall, his gym clothes tight in his grasp. I turn to face the doorway to the gym, and head out.

I see that only a few people were in the gym. The teacher was probably late again. I then feel a nudge on my back.

I turn to face Craig.

"I saw you talking to Kyle in the change rooms," He said plainly. I glare at him.

"Your point?"

"Are you two, like a gay couple?" I felt my face burn up.

"No! What makes you say that?!" I say to him sharply.

He shrugs. "I see the way you two act around each other," he says flatly.

"That doesn't mean that we're together!" My face flushed with rage.

"You need to stop running to conclusions," I snap at him.

"You're acting like a dick, Craig," He looks at me plainly and flips me off. Typical Craig. Doesn't give a ! #$%^&*. I sit down, too angry with him to argue anymore.

Soon, other males come out of the change room. Cartman and Kenny come out, and they sit far to talk. Where is Kyle? Doesn't take him _this _long. My stomach twisted with worry. I stood for a few minutes, the knots inside twisting.

My worries are all flushed out, when I see a familiar green hat. Kyle comes out, and stands beside me.

"What took you so long?" I ask.

"I needed a drink," he says tartly. The gym teacher soon comes out, and gets our attention.

"Hello, class." he says. We say nothing. Our class is always anti-social when it comes to replying to a teacher. I hear faint whispers coming from my left. Kyle had his eyes closed, and his fingers were crossed.

"Please not dodge ball, please not dodge ball," he kept repeating over the gym teacher's voice.

"Today, we're playing dodge-ball," Kyle silently cursed to himself. The teacher got the balls, an placed them on the middle line. Running to get them? Child's play.

"Students on one side of the gym is Team 1, the other half is Team 2," As we stood, I saw Cartman and Kyle staring each other off. When that happens, ! #$%^&* hits the fan.

"Ready? Set? GO!" he blows the whistle. I sped for a ball, but Kyle is right ahead of me. For a skinny little guy, he sure can run like the wind. He grips a ball, and immediately throws it at Cartman. The fatass dodges. I saw a ball fly towards me, but I caught it. The teacher blows the whistle. I saw Clyde walk to the benches. I grin, and I whip the ball at Butters.

"Oh, hamburgers!" he yells, as he ducks at the last second. Cartman grabs a ball, and as expected; aims for Kyle. I saw the foam ball speed towards him, but he steps to the side. As I turn, a ball hits me straight in the face. My heart jumps. The whistle blows, telling me I'm out. I walk to the bench to join Clyde. One by one, some get hit. Tweek gets out before Butters does.

"GAH!" he twitches as he gets hit on the shoulder. For the whole time, I watch Kyle. He's awesome at this game, yet he hates it. I don't extremely hate it, that was back in Grade 4. I grown to like it over the years. After a while, it was 2 against one. Token and Kenny against Kyle. I heard Token is great at throwing; Kenny is a swift dodger.

"C'mon, Kyle!" I encourage. I see beads of sweat drip down his forehead.

"Throw it, Kinny! Make sure to aim for the face!" Cartman orders. Token and Kenny glance at eachother. They throw their balls at the same time, but want shocked me was that Kyle dodged them _both_! He grabs both of the balls, and anger was directed at Kenny and Token. He throws one ball up in the air, and it distracts them both. Kyle throws the ball at Kenny.

It hits him straight in the leg. The whistle blows. The ball rolls over the line, and to Token. Without hesitation, he throws it at Kyle. It hits him on the arm. He cringes at it. The whistle blows twice, and the teacher points to the opposite side of the gym. Cartman stands up, and cheers. He teases Kyle, and runs to Token. Kyle rubs his arm, and I walk over to him.

"Class dismissed!" the teacher yells. The boys head for the door.

"Dude you're like a fucking ninja," I say, amazed at his performance. He rolled his eyes.

"It's only because I was under pressure," he says. Craig comes up to us, he looks at Kyle.

"You weren't under pressure at the start, and you still did very well," Craig points out.

"Well, of course, I have to use all my skill to get that fatass out," he snorts. I place a hand on his shoulder.

"You can do so much, yet you doubt yourself." I say, jovially. He looks in my eyes. I saw his cheeks turn red. He's blushing. I quickly remove my hand as Craig raises a brow.

"Don't say a word." I say firmly. He stares blankly. Up goes his middle finger. Up goes my anger. We head for the change rooms. Suddenly Kyle starts shaking.

"I totally forgot about the test," he said. I force him to look at me.

"Your going to do fine, Kyle." He doesn't believe me. He sighs, and goes to change. I took off my gym shirt, and replaced it with the clothes I wore this morning. I'm not too fussy about what clothes I wear. As I finish up, I wait for Kyle. He comes out a few seconds later, all dressed in the same clothes, he too, wore this morning.

We head for our classroom, and we take our seats. I chat to Kyle to wait for everyone to come.

"What do you think you'd get?" I ask. Kyle doesn't answer me. Instead, he's focusing on a sheet of paper, that has writing on it. I read of whats on it.

_Depression is a world._

_Depression leaves you lost._

_Depression drops you in a never ending black hole._

_You want to get help,_

_but you can't._

_When you do,_

_you wish you didn't._

_Depression leaves you numb_

_with** fear**._

_Depression leaves you no hope._

_No ambition._

_Nothing to look forward to._

_Tears well in your eyes._

_Depression leaks out _

_Out into the open._

"Sad, huh?" Kyle says, knowing I've read it. My eyes move from the sheet to him. I had an empty mouth; no words. My heart crumbles. Kyle's green-eyed glance at me shows stoic. I couldn't tell of what he was feeling. Angry? Upset?

"I found this, so I re-wrote it," He says soullessly.

"Is..is this how you feel?" I felt unsure of why he bothered to write this. He closes his eyes.

And took a deep breath. "Yes," the word seeps out of his mouth like butter. I leer with confusion. Tears slowly run down Kyles eyes.

"This is basically myself everyday, Stan." He leers away from me, a quiet sobbing tone to his voice.

"Everyday."

* * *

_**Note: I didn't write the poem/quote about depression. I found it, and thought it would be useful. All rights go to whoever owns the poem. **_


	8. Chapter 8 - Joy

_**So sorry I haven't updated regularly! .**_

_**I'm very busy with school, like trying to get on the honor role. Which means a lot O' study. **_

_**But, the chapter is finished, and I'll try my very best to submit the next one earlier.  
**_

**.:Kyle's POV:.**

After taking the test, the weight lifted off my chest. While the teacher marked them, I read a book. I kept thinking of Stan's reaction when I showed him my poem. I kept telling myself it was a stupid move to show him that.

"I shouldn't have shown him that poem,_" _I whisper to myself harshly. I gripped the book tightly, my nose wrinkled.

"_Stan shouldn't be so nosy.. Although I was the one who let him.." _I thought. I glanced to my right. Stan was writing something. I ignored it, but I soon felt something poke me.

I twist to the direction the poking came from. Stan held a piece of lined paper folded up. I hesitate to grab it, but he wriggled it. My eyes narrowed, unsure if I should take it, but I do. I eyed the paper. I slowly opened it, and there was handwriting inside. It was messy but I could barely read it. I read in my head.

_Hey Kyle,_

_About that poem you wrote... _I rubbed the paper with anger at the sentence. I didn't really want this to be a huge conversation between Stan and myself, but I kept on reading.

_I was pretty shocked about how it said you were depressed and ! #$%^&*.  
_

_But shocked on how well you write..  
_

_Talk to me after class to chat more,  
_

_-Stan_

He wasted my time just to pass a note about talking after class? My eyes sped from the paper to Stan. He had a goofy grin on him. I scowl quietly, telling him to back off, or that I disagree with this. He kept a serious face now.

"Alright class," Mr Garrison said.

"I've marked all your math tests, so I'll be coming around to hand them back to you. My stomach twisted with anxiety. What if I get a bad mark? What will my mom think of me? Like another reason to call me useless, or a mistake? I closed my eyes, trying to make myself invisible. I know it was stupid, but I wish it could actually happen.

"Kyle Broflovski," A stern voice said. I opened my eyes, staring into the brown eyes of Mr. Garrison.

"Here is your test," he said simply. He placed it face down, and walked away to hand out more tests. I leered over at Stan, as he flipped over his test. A smile appears on his face. He then looked at me, and dipped his head to my sheet.

I flipped it over quickly. I gazed at my mark.

**98%**. My heart was released from it's worried state. Relief flooded over me. I scanned over the test to see what mistakes I made. Only a few little mistakes, but I could of done better. After Mr Garrison was done marking all the tests, he allowed us all to talk amongst ourselves. Stan, Cartman, Kenny and I told each others tests marks; like always.

"I got a 77, which is very good for my standards," Stan said, showing off his test. Everyone looked at me now. My turn.

"I got a 98, but I could of done alot better," I say. I flipped over my test.

"Could of done better? Dude, you've got the best mark in the class, be proud of what you have," Kenny muffled through his parka.

"I got better than all of you," Cartman exclaimed, as his eyes scanned the paper. I shot a cold look at him.

"What did you get, fatass? It couldn't have been 99 or Perfect because Kenny told me I got the highest mark the the class," I scowl at him.

Cartman flipped over his test. I looked at the mark. 58.

Kenny started to laugh his head off, Cartman looked at him with confusion.

"Whats so funny, _Kinny_?" he asked. Between giggles, Kenny replied to him.

"You..Ha..your mark!" he broke into full out laugh, that made everyone look at us.

"Kenny McCormick, control yourself!" Mr Garrison snapped. Kenny kept laughing, until it turned into wheezes.

"What's wrong with my mark?" He asked.

I rolled my eyes. "Your mark is horrible," Cartman's eyes turned from Kenny's to mine.

"I still pass, Jew!" he said, defensively.

"No, Cartman you don't." Stan said softly, hate to break the truth to him.

"If my mark is over 50, I pass!" Cartman said tartly, his eyes full of fury.

_"Over 60 is a pass, you stupid little-_"

"60 and up is a pass," Kenny said, clearly calmed down. Cartman's face was bewildered.

"I-I thought it was a 50 and up," he said, slightly disappointed.

"Sorry, but it's 60 and up," I said, with no anger touching my tone.

Cartman said nothing. I felt a little bad. I mean, I know I hate the fatass, but ! #$%^&* I feel bad for him getting the lowest mark. I'd be upset if I got a low mark. I shook my head to clear my thoughts. I gazed over at Kenny.

"Alright dude, what did you get?" I say. Kenny had a smirk on his face and didn't hesitate to flip over his sheet.

**92%. **We all looked at his paper in astonishment. I soon lifted the edge of my mouth, transforming it into a grin.

"I've been beaten by a poor little !#%hole?! Goddammit!" Cartman fumed, in a deep trance while looking at Kenny's mark. I smiled at him, and he raised a hand. It was spread out. I smiled, knowing what he was thinking.

Me and Kenny both gave each other a high-five.

"Gaiz, high-fives are are pussies," Cartman sneered.

"Your probably jealous that Kenny and I have better grades than you," I retort. Stan and Kenny start laughing and I soon join in with them. Cartman pouted.

This is probably the best moment of my life. Not because I whooped Cartman's ! #$%^&*, but that I'm having _fun_ for once.

* * *

The bell for dismissal has rung. I walked outside, but someone snagged my backpack. I was hauled at the side of the school.

I turned to face Stan. I felt my nose wrinkle.

"Instead of almost freaking me out, why can't you just let me follow you to where you wanted us to meet," I snort. He bit his lip. I rose a brow.

"Yeah, I'll do that next time.." he said.

"Now what do you want to talk about?" I fold my arms.

"Because if it's about the poem I swear-"

"I'm worried," he cut me off. I stared at him, my face full of confusion.

"Why? Stan I'm fine-"

"Because I care, Kyle," his tone changed into one that sounds like he's going to break down into a sob.

"Stan, don't worry about me. I haven't made a cut in a while," I convinced him.

"Not yet," I said softly, just quiet enough for Stan not to hear it.

"But what happens if your mom does something, and you want to get a blade out and-" I snarl at him.

"I'm fucking fine Stan, jesus!"

"No your not, Kyle!" he shouts back at me.

"Listen to me-" He tries to reason with me, but I point a finger in his face.

"No, you listen to me, Stan. I'm perfectly fine! I mean, look!" I swiftly roll up my sleeve. The cuts were almost fully healed, but some were still red.

I felt something grip my hands. Red mittens were wrapped around my lime green gloves.

"I can help you," he whispers. I gently pull away from his grasp.

"I don't need help, Stan, and even if I do, you don't have to help me," Stan shook his head, and took a step forward. He was so close, I could see the details on his eyes.

"If course I do. You're my best friend," He then tightens his grasp.

"My super best friend," I felt my face burn. A vibration from my coat pocket interrupted us. I snagged it, and looked to see who was calling.

My eyes widen when I saw the bold white letters that spelt

Dad.

My heart raced, and I quickly answered the phone.

"Dad?" I say, almost in complete tears. I never knew he was going to call me. I haven't seen him for some time now, and I really miss him.

"Kyle?" I smile, with tears flowing down my eyes. His voice was still the same, which made my heart race.

"Hey Dad, I'm so happy to see you," I whisper.

"I am too son. Listen, I'm trying to convince your mother to get us back together again," his voice said, with car noises in the background.

"How are you going to do that dad? I mean, she's gone crazy once you left," I say. Breathes went down my neck, and I look at the corner of my eyes, with Stan hearing the conversation. I don't tell him to get away or anything.

My dad quickly replied "I know, I know. I'm going to get her cured. Get her to herself again,"

"How?" I ask, unsure of how he was going to do that.

"I'll figure something out, Kyle. You know I always do anything for you and Ike, remember?" I muffled a 'yes.' He told me he needed to go, and that he loves me and Ike with all his heart. I replied the last sentence, and hung I was in forth grade, I was kidnapped by Apple, because I agreed to something I didn't read. My father joined Apple, in order to get me out. I still have that facial scar, but you can barely see it now.

My heart was going to pop out of my chest, wondering what my Dad's next move is.


	9. Chapter 9 - Affection

_**So sorry for the big delay! ;n;**_

_**I had a huge writers block, and didn't know what to write next! **_

_**I appreciate you all being so patient! **_

**.:Stan's POV:.**

While me and Kyle were talking, his phone rang. Just perfect timing. As I lean over to the chatter, I could tell it was his dad. His eyes lit up after a few minutes. I could barely pick up tears that drizzled down his cheeks. He turns off his phone, and looks at me.

"What was that about?" I ask, wondering what is making Kyle so happy.

"My dad is trying to get him and my mom back together," He sniffs, wiping the tears with his sleeve.

I tilt my head. "I don't think that's going to be successful," He glares at me.

"How so?"

"Well, think about it dude. Your mom is way too pissed off, correct? And she doesn't listen to anyone while she's in that state," I point out. Kyle's once light face dispersed.

"I guess your right," he says listlessly. My head drooped. I felt really bad for crushing Kyle's hope. I mean, he really wants his mom and dad back together again. This was his first time experiencing a divorce. Unlike me, my parents broke up many times, so I basically got used to it.

"You never know, dude. Your dad could do it," I said. The tingling vibration of my phone made me stiffen. I yanked it out of my pocket, and opened up my messages.

**(1) new message from: Cartman**

**Cartman: Come over, I just got a sweet new game. You gaiz can play too.** I roll my eyes, and reply back.

**You: Sure, what time?**

**Cartman: Right now, hippie! Bring the Jew, too.** I scowl at the last sentence. Typical fatass, ripping on Kyle.

"What's up?" Kyle asks, and I show him the message. He growls.

"I bet he's the only one going to play," I say, cantankerously.

"Yeah, but I don't care. I want to be away from my mom," Kyle mutters. I nod. We both head to Cartman's in silence.

"Hey dude, I need to ask you something," I ask suddenly. We stop by a nearby tree, and he looks at me.

"What about?" he replies. I took a breath.

"How did your mom and dad split up anyway?" He stiffens. He bits his lip, and rubs his arm.

"I, don't really wanna talk about it," he says, not wanting to be social.

"Are you sure?" I place a hand on his shoulder. "Talking about it makes you feel a whole lot better," I try to promote him to speak. He shakes his head.

"I'm don't want to Stan. I'm sorry, but no," he whispers. He removes my hand from his shoulder, and he starts to walk ahead. I run up to him, now putting two hands on his shoulders.

"Kyle. You know I'm always here, right?" I say. His green eyes looked to the side.

"No. Your not, Stan." My heart dropped.

"What do you mean?" I ask. He whipped his gaze back to stare me head on.

"You always hang out with Wendy!" he hisses. The hell?! I never hang out with her anymore! We already broke up!

"Kyle, me and Wendy broke up a long time ago!" I yell back in defense. Kyle took a breath.

"When you were with Wendy, all you did was go to parties with her-!"

"That was a long time ago!" I repeated.

"I HAD THIS FEELING WHEN YOU AND WENDY WERE TOGETHER, STAN! I ALWAYS HAD IT EVER SINCE MY FUCKING PARENTS BROKE UP!" My face softened. Kyle kept breathing heavily from all the rage he released. His arms shook rapidly.

"You didn't even give a shit," he murmured. I never knew. This was all new to me. I must of been some friend back then. A silence between ourselves flew over us.

"I'm sorry, Kyle. I really am," I say awkwardly.

"Are you mad?" I ask. Kyle looks at me.

"No."

"Really? After ignoring you? Putting Wendy before anyone else?"

"How could I get mad at my Super Bestfriend?" He gives a small smile.

"Even if I yell at you Stan, It doesn't change how I feel about you," I felt my face set ablaze. Am I.. blushing? At Kyle? I shook my head or clear my thoughts.

"Come on, let's see what the fatass is doing," I wrap an arm around his neck, heading over to Cartman's.

* * *

We arrive in about 3 minutes after our talk. I pound on the door. I felt Kyle stiffen as a cold breeze blows by. I look at his face; his eyes were closed right and his arms were wrapped around himself. I heard his teeth chatter.

"I hate the cold," he says in breaths. I sqeeze him tigher. The door finally opens. Kenny smirks at both of us.

"Hey lovebirds," he coos. He steps aside to let us in. I heard a slight scowl from Kyle as we walk by. We sit on the couch. And as usual, Kyle sits further away from Cartman. I follow the fatass' eyes that were staring into the flat screen. The Xbox controller was tight in his grasp.

"What took you fags so long?" he said, not looking up from his game. Kenny sat beside Cartman's left. He gave me a creepy ass wink of his.

"You guys snuggled up nice and cozy?" He sung.

"Shut up," I hiss. Kenny raised a brow; liking my response.

"Are you dipshit's going to answer me, or no?" Cartman said, clearly inpatient. His controller clicked after a while.

"I forgot something at Kyle's house," I lied. He shrugged. Me, Kyle and Kenny watched him play, and I was tired like fuck watching.

"Are you going to be a host to your guests and let us play?" Kyle askes.

"No way! I'm not letting your Ginger-Jewish-Jersey germs on my controller!" Cartman teased. Kyle clicked his tongue. He sits up.

"I'm getting some water," he said. I lift my arm so he can get to the kitchen.

"Dude, you shouldn't use that power-up now. Save it for a tougher opponent" Kenny comments on Cartman's mistake.

"Shut up, Kinny. I do it mah way," the fatass replies tensely. Kyle comes in, his glass tight in his grasp. He sits beside me.

"That's a lot of water. Make sure you don't wet your bed," I snicker. Kyle takes a sip, then raises a hand.

"Don't make me slap you," he threatens. I raise a brow.

"You won't hit me," I say.

"How so?"

"You never hit me,"

* * *

**_I had to end it here.. ._**

**_I was in a rush, because I had to finish some chores._**

**_But, it finished, and that's all that matters._**

~_Blaize_~


	10. Chapter 10 - Drunk

**.:Kyle's POV:.**

We stayed at Cartman's for a long time now. I couldn't specify exactly. I was extremely tired of watching Cartman constantly rage because he lost a round. I decided to sleep for a couple minutes; to get some shut eye. But when I woke up, I see Stan with a beer bottle, and I immediately took this to extreme caution.

"What a beautiful morning~" Stan slurred. He's drunk. Just fucking great, he found the alcohol. I now need to take care of an 16 year old drunk dude. Just the kind of responsibility I needed. I got up and stretched. I looked around. Cartman and Kenny were passed out. Stan was the last man standing. He looked at me with a goofy smile planted on his face.

"Oh, hey Kylllleee, you look cute today..." he sung, and hiccuped the second after. I snorted. I grabbed the beer bottle from his hand, and put it away in the kitchen. I return to him, and make sure I'm not so close to him.

"C'mon bud, let's get you home," I said softly, yet unamused. I wrapped a hand over his neck.

"Your hands are soft..." I could barely hear him, because his speech was all messed up.

"You are the creepiest when your drunk" I swore. I opened the door, a slight midnight breeze chilled my spine. In this weather, Stan would be the one guiding me. I hate the cold. I walked out of the doorway and gently shut the door. When Cartman is disturbed, hell he is in the worst mood. I'm pretty sure I don't want to experience it.

"Okay, we're almost there-" I suddenly smelt something that made me feel nauseous. The acid taste is just horrible. I took my insulin before we got here, so that can't be it. I thought hard, until I got an idea.

I haven't eaten in, I don't know 2 days. How could I be nauseous? I could feel my arms getting weak but I hung on. Just before I could throw up, I spotted Stan's house. Thank god. I summoned up all of my strength and sped towards the door. I let go of Stan and faced the ground. I began to wait, feeling it rise up in my throat. I placed my hands on my knees.

"The hell are u doooing?" Stan questioned sloppily. I felt vomit raise in my throat, and splurge out of my mouth. After throwing up my stomach, I returned to Stan.

"I should be the one vomiting, not you." he said it more clearly and with more emotion. I scoffed.

"I'm fine. Let's get you in your bed," We quietly ran up the stairs, and I turned to the doorway with the little flag on it that said:

Stan.

I opened the door and didn't bother turning on the lights. I placed him on his bed. I looked at him. His eyes were closed. Passed out, finally.

"Mmm, very cute indeed..." he muttered in his sleep. Who was he talking to? Better not be me. I'm the geekiest one around. I'm the tallest in the group, at 5'8. I basically loom over everyone in high school, except the 12th graders. They're giants. We, us 11ths are in the middle. 10th graders, then 9th. I was about to trail off when Stan kept muttering.

"I could wear your ! #$%^&* as a hat, Kyle..." I wanted to slap the ! #$%^&* out of this goofball. Ever since Bebe told me my ! #$%^&* was...hot in 4th grade, I wanted to throw up. The others kept teasing me with that, yet Stan uses it as a compliment this time. I looked at his clock, that read 3:00AM. I should be heading back, otherwise I'd be tired as crap. I turn to the doorway, and gave the sleeping Stan one last glance. I couldn't help but give a little smile.

"Night bud"

* * *

**Sorry for it being short. :I**

**The next one will be longer.**

**~Blaize~**


	11. Chapter 11 - Crimson

**.:Kyle's POV:.**

Walking home was the biggest mistake I've ever made.

Because it was fucking cold out. It _had _to be the coldest night right now, this exact night. Stan told me once to stop complaining and deal with it, but I can't! I mean, how are they not cold? I was distracted and didn't look where I was going. I walked forward, feeling something bump me. I fall to the ground, rubbing my head that came in first contact with. I look up, to find a woman with a disgusted look on her face.

"Watch where your going, you tramp!" she spat. As she was walking I grunted. Women... I got up and cleaned myself off, wiping off the snow. I continued walking until I found my house. I run to the doorstep, opening the door, and quietly running upstairs. I check in every room, making sure nothing bad is happening. Ike is sound asleep, so is my mom. I close my door. I grab a fresh pair of pajamas, and put them on I slid into bed, and soon, I fell asleep.

I wake up, the sound of glass shattering. I glance at my clock, It's 5:35 in the morning, everyone is suppose to be passed out. I could barely hear what was happening.

"Ike Broflovski, are you going to upset me again?" I hear my mother spat. Oh ! #$%^&*, not Ike! I open my door, and run through the short hallway, and leering down the stairs, revealing my mother threatening Ike with a shattered beer bottle, and Ike himself on the floor. No blood or wounds, thank god.

"Mom, what the hell are you doing?" I yell, as angry as ever. My mom looked at me, but her face scrunched up into a face of anger.

"You should be in bed! It's almost 6:00 in the morning! You have school!" she says, as I rush over to Ike. His eyes were full of tears and fear. His body shook so rapidly, I could feel it myself. Why would she do this? How can she do this to her own son?

"Now, Bubbe, can you please move out of the way, Ike needs a punishment," she said softly. I clenched my teeth.

"Ike doesn't deserve a punishment this harsh, or a punishment at all! He's only 9!" I spat, venom stinging at my tone.

She raises the beer bottle at Ike, and is about to throw it at him, but an instinct of mine made me jump in front of him, shielding him from the attack while facing him. His eyes were closed, holding his hands over his head, trying to endure it. I let out a terrifying scream, the impact of the beer bottle was fixed right in my back. The glass pierced my flesh and I could immediately feel blood seeping through my coat. But then he looks up, finding myself blocking him. I force a smile, but it was replaced by a yowl caused by pain.

"Kyle!" he shrieks. I collapse to the ground, gasping for air. I couldn't breathe, or speak. He grabs a phone, dialing 9-1-1. Ike rushed to my aid, more tears flowing from his eyes.

"Hello? Yes, please hurry to 56 avenue! My brother is injured, a-and he..he needs to go to a hospital!" he squeaks into the phone. "Thank you, but please hurry!" he hangs up, he turns to face me.

"Why did you shield me?" he whimpered. "I would have survived that," I shook my head. He's too young, his bones and body aren't strong enough to endure an attack like that. I tried to pull out the glass itself, but I was too weak to move. He grasped my arm. I suddenly hear a knock on the door, and Ike quickly answered it. My eyes widened, so did Ike's.

"D-Dad?!" he says, full of shock. He hugs Ike, but they soon embrace when he saw me.

"Oh my god, Kyle!" he yells, rushing to my side.

"What happened..." he says weakly. Ike looks at me, then my dad.

"Mom tried to hurt me with a shattered beer bottle, but then Kyle jumping in front of me.." he trails off. My eyes were getting too weak for me to keep them open. I saw only black, and the terrifying sound of my parents fighting.

* * *

**.:Stan's POV:.  
**

I quickly wake up, finding myself in bed. I cocked my head, rather confused. Wasn't I at Cartman's then I found the beer bottle or something..?

"The hell?" I yawn, tried and hungover. I look over at my clock, that read 7:02. Perfect timing. I got ready and bounded downstairs, to find my mother cooking me some breakfast.

"Morning Stanley!" she smiled warmly, looking away from the frying pan.

"Morn'.." I grunt. I didn't want to go to school today, I'm too tired to do so. I just wanted to sleep. I sit down and rest my cheek on the palm of my hand. Patiently, I wait for breakfast. I'm too lazy too cook my own, and I don't even know how to cook. My mom arrives with a steaming plate of bacon and eggs. I smile as she places a glass of orange juice on the table. She gives me a hug and kiss.

"Stan, you look awful tired," she narrowed her eyes. I shrug, shoving some bacon in my mouth.

"I didn't get much sleep last night," I lie. She leans over to me to smell my breath.

"Stanley, have you been drinking?!" her tone gets sharp. Oh ! #$%^&*. Abort mission, I repeat, ABORT MISSION!

"Answer me, young man!" I rapidly shake my head.

"Cartman gave me candy that taste like beer and coke," I give another save.

"O..kay.." she sounds a little convinced, and walks off. After taking a last sip from my drink, I put my dishes in the sink.

"Off to school!" I yell. I could hear a distant 'okay' from my mom's bedroom.

I get my stuff, put on my usual coat, and head for the bus stop.

I nudged my head, trying to remember the dream I had last night.

It had something to do with Kyle and I, but I didn't quite remember most of the details. In the distance I see the usual yellow sign, and 2 figures.

2? One was probably late, or is sleeping in. I bound towards the figures, reveling Cartman and Kenny. Where's Kyle?

"Hey, have you guys seen Kyle?" Cartman snorted.

"The Jew? I think he hasn't awoken from his beauty nap," I give the fat- ! #$%^&* a Craig, flipping my right hand upward. He scoffed. A shiver went down my spine. Did something happen last night? Did he get in trouble? I was so worried, I could puke my fucking guts out.

"Hey, earth to Stan?" I blinked. Kenny's fingers were in a snapping position.

"You..blanked out for a while, you okay dude?" he asks. I nod.

"Yeah, just worried about Kyle," I could hear full laughter coming from the fatass himself. I blush.

"W-Whats so funny?!" I snap. Cartman pretends to wipe a tear from his eye with one of his chubby little fingers.

"I..I never saw you so concerned for the jew-rat," he wheezes. Kenny jammed an elbow into his side.

"This isn't funny Cartman, something could have happened to him," Kenny muffled. My heart lurched. I've known Kyle for a very long time, and he's the only one in the group who actually cares about me.

"Okay, jeez Kinny. Gawd your gaiz are such fags," he snorted as he rubs his side. The bus arrives and we get on it. I sit in my usual spot. But it's seems different.

Because I didn't feel Kyle against my side, looking out the window with his emerald eyes reflecting off the glass.

* * *

School was over, and I raced to my locker to grab my phone. I checked the messages.

No new ones, not even from Kyle. He always texts me if he's away or something. I unhook my bag from my locker and sped out the door. Kenny was at my heels, and Cartman huffed behind him.

"Gaiz...wait...for...me.." He huffed. I looked over my shoulder.

"Run faster!" I call. We sped towards Kyle's tinted green house. I knocked on the door, tapping my foot impatiently.

No answer.

"Whats wrong?" Kenny huffed, and stood beside me.

"I'm not getting a response," I report. Kenny shoved passed me and knocked.

"Kyle? You in there, bud?" He calls.

No answer. His face turns grim.

"He always answers the door..." Kenny muttered. Cartman push us aside.

"Hey, Jew-rat! Let us in or I'll barge in there myself!" He hissed.

No answer. But the door opened. It slowly creaked, revealing the dark insides of the unlit house.

"Thats weird," I say, trying to find a light switch.

"What is?" Kenny asks.

"The fact that this house is completely empty." I reply.

I heard Cartman snort. "Why do you say that, smartass?" I shot him a glare of daggers, his brown eyes shining from the outside light.

"Ike would be in the living room, or doing something in this room, but he's not," I point out.

"And besides." Kenny adds. "Why are their lights off?" Cartman shrugged.

"I guess you have a point, poor boy," The fatass admits. Kenny scoffed. I soon felt the strange shape of the light switch. I smelt a foul stench strike my nose.

"The fuck is that awful smell?" I wrinkle my nose.

"I didn't fart, so don't blame meh," Cartman said innocently.

"N-no dude, smells like copper," I said, unsure. I heard the other's sniff.

"Stan's right, it does smell like copper.." I flipped the switch on. I heard breath-taking gasps from across the room. As I looked to face them, I immediately felt sick to my stomach.

There was a huge puddle of blood in the middle of the kitchen.


End file.
